10 Best Photos From #THEROOLIFE In The Last Month!

Kammok team member Lawton Cook writes about his first trip out to West Texas and why he can't help but go back for more. •     •     • "Finally, I wish to offer my opinion, just as a private visitor, that although the old saying that 'he who travels must be prepared to take away only as much as he brings with him' applies to all our great parks, it holds true especially of Big Bend. It is a desert-mountain country whose qualities offer an allurement, a satisfaction of soul, only if the visitor will put himself in the right mood, and will remain long enough to know it with some intimacy. He who drives in and drives out without letting the motor cool, may see, to be sure, some most interesting natural objects, but he will not know, and can never love, Big Bend." -Freeman Tilden, 1945 When you love a place so much, it can be hard to reduce every inch of it into a few words. I’ve visited Big Bend regularly over the last five years, but I’ve written very little about those experiences. Where do you start in describing a place that has such a commanding hold on you? The task feels akin to describing every inch of your best friend and lining out their deepest secrets, personality traits, and physical features down to the very last hair on their head. I want to tell you of the long afternoons paddling through stunning canyons, passing a bottle of sotol around a campfire as the Rio whispers in the night, walking dusty desert trails at sunset and continuing on after dusk, and waking to stunning views from high in the Chisos Mountains as the sun rises blood red over the Sierra del Carmen.  I’ll just tell it how I remember it, the way I saw it for the first time. A few months after my wife and I were married in Austin in 2016, we were still living with a wonderful carelessness afforded by our lack of responsibility. No dogs, no kids, no obligations. We decided around 8 p.m. on a Friday evening that nothing was stopping us from driving seven hours to Big Bend for the long weekend, so we packed our Honda Civic and pointed west. It didn’t take too long for the endorphins to wear off, and the quiet slog of I-10 rumbled me to a sleepy stupor. We made it to Ozona before crashing in a roadside motel and then woke fresh the next morning and made for Fort Stockton. South of the I-10 turnoff in Fort Stockton, the Glass Mountains erupted from the Chihuahuan Desert like nothing else I’d seen in Texas. We stopped the car on the side of the highway so we could take pictures of these sub-6,000 foot peaks. Plenty of folks from the Mountain West, where 14ers mark the landscape, would be unimpressed by these lowlying mountains, especially given their inaccessible location on private land behind barbed wire fences, but I was blown away that such a place existed in my home state. After spending a day in Alpine and Marfa, we finally rolled into the north entrance of the park well after dark and found a campsite at Rio Grande Village. The next morning we woke to the pale Chihuahuan Desert, everything dust covered and dry, begging for rain. We peered over the banks of the Rio to catch a first glimpse at the muddy river below, not knowing in just a few years time we’d be in those waters, pulling our paddles through the current as our canoes pushed forward into Boquillas Canyon. From above we could see a few locals from Boquillas del Carmen on the opposite side, lounging in the shade of the mesquites, waiting for their friend who was fording the river on a skinny horse to meet them. He’d placed an assortment of handmade desert trinkets on a rock for tourists to purchase—ocotillos, roadrunners, and other desert plants made from twisted wire and brightly colored beads—with an empty pickle jar as an honor system cash register. This was my first time to see our southern border, and the peacefulness of the place, the quiet hush of the river below the sun-baked desert, subverted all other notions I had about this controversial line in the sand.  When you live in a place all of your life, you get the feeling you know everything there is to know about it. But when you call a place as big as Texas home, you’ll soon find out driving across it that there’s much of it you’ve never seen—much of it you’ll likely never see. Not only that, but with opinions as big as the state itself, you also bring with you certain ideas and biases that don’t really bear out in truth. Like the idea that West Texas is all flat and brown, that mountains are far from home, and that the border is a place to fear. During that first visit to Big Bend, all my ideas about Texas were turned upside down. I kept asking aloud how no one had ever told me this place existed. How had I never, in all my 26 years in Texas, visited what I now believe to be the most exceptionally beautiful part of our state? It was a feeling of both incredible gratitude for being in the place and almost irritation for having not seen it sooner. Those feelings were only amplified by my first drive into the Chisos. Amanda and I drove towards the basin and watched as candelilla and ocotillo gave way to blooming sotol plants, and as we rose, to vibrant junipers and pinyon pines. The mountains glowed all around, crags of rock that seemed to belong somewhere else.  The view of the mountains from the road were enchanting—guaranteeing I would be coming back year after year. We snagged a campsite in the Chisos Basin campground, not knowing just how incredibly lucky we were to nab an open spot, and hiked the always classic Window Trail for the very first time. It seems like we stretched that hike into hours, stopping often to examine a plant we’d never seen before or take a picture of a new view. The Window itself was mind blowing, and although it's one of the more touristy places on the map, it remains one of my favorite trails in the park. I mean, how could it not? That evening we shared our campsite with a couple who rolled in late without a reservation. They had a charcoal grill with them, almost like a fire pit, and we were grateful to have a warm blaze to sit around in the cool mountain air. We got to know each other over too much whiskey, and then retreated to our tents for one last view of the brightest stars I’d ever seen in my life. We wanted to do one last hike before making the drive back, but of course we woke late the next morning and didn’t have our campsite packed up until noon. A ranger at the visitor center mentioned Emory Peak when we went looking for advice, adding “But you really should have started earlier in the day. It’s about a six to eight hour hike, and it’ll be pretty hot. Bring plenty of water if you decide to go.”  I tried to persuade Amanda to do anything else, but her heart was set on climbing Emory Peak. Even if we absolutely crushed the hike, we were still looking at a seven hour drive on the other side with work the next day in Austin. When I told her we couldn’t do the hike she put on the most pitiful face of disappointment. In the end we continued the “what the hell” theme we started the trip with. Sure, we can drive to Big Bend in the middle of the night. If we can do that, surely we can knock out this awesome hike and make it back home at 3am. I’ll admit that I agreed to the plan pretty begrudgingly, but usually when Amanda drags me into something, it turns out to be pretty memorable.  The hike up Emory Peak and back  is about ten miles. The park ranger told us to carry about a gallon of water each for the elevation gain and heat exposure, and I looked at our two Nalgenes with a feeling of complete inadequacy. Call it ingenuity or total noob move, but I bought a 2.5 gallon jug of water from the convenience store—the kind of jug with the spigot on one end and the handle on top—and strapped it to my Topo Designs Rover Pack for the long hike up. I don’t think Topo Designs would mind me saying this considering their pack was not designed to awkwardly carry a huge jug of water, but that was the most uncomfortable backpack I’d ever slung over my shoulders. It was like being in fourth grade again carrying a Jansport backpack crammed with every single text book, notebook, and pencil. Needless to say we invested in more appropriate gear after this adventure. We made it to the top of Emory Peak on wobbly, unseasoned legs, but we made it nonetheless. At the end of the trail, we scrambled nervously up the small rock face to the summit and touched the survey marker like we were crossing a finish line. I didn’t know it at the time, but from the top of the Chisos Mountains, we were looking at Elephant Tusk down below across the Dodson Trail and Santa Elena Canyon beyond. To the southeast, the Sierra del Carmen range stood watching over Boquillas just across the Rio Grande, and to the north, Santiago Peak emerged among smaller mountains, pointing the way home. On that day five years ago I looked out at a place completely foreign to me, nameless in every way. A 360 degree view of a Texas I didn’t recognize, but one I couldn’t wait to get to know.  Five years later, I’m still no expert on Big Bend by any stretch. And in some ways, I enjoy that. I’ve been back for several paddle trips on the Rio and some hikes in the Chisos, and I still haven’t even scratched the surface of what this place offers. That means every time I go I get to put my boots in a new patch of dirt, learn something new, and be completely mystified. But I think if you asked someone who’d been going to Big Bend for a lifetime, they’d probably tell you they feel the same way. Our Palette of the Bend print draws colors from South Rim views high in the Chisos where the first light of day paints Big Bend with such brilliant shades that you wish the sun would stop so you could take it all in just a little bit longer. Beyond that though, this print represents our inability to capture just how grand this place is, from the resilient desert to the mighty canyons and all the way to the top of Texas’s most glorious mountain range. It’s a place worth taking your time in—a landscape that demands your attention with all its wonder, causing you to sit in silence and disbelief. It’s a feeling worth leaning into. And every time you go back, hopefully you’ll be just as amazed by this place as you were on your very first visit. Amanda and I hit the parking lot with exhausted legs and aching feet after a speedy hike down the Pinnacles Trail. We sank into our Honda Civic, kicking our shoes off on the floorboard and peeling off sweat soaked socks revealing ankles caked in trail dust. The sun set just as we passed the Persimmon Gap park entrance, and we felt pleasantly exhausted, proud of the adventure we’d chosen. We ate burgers in the Fort Stockton Dairy Queen before refueling with gas and heading east on I-10 for the long drive back, and we made it to our apartment in Austin at about 3am, ready to fall fast asleep after a job well done. Our first Big Bend trip was over, but we’d be back. I’ll leave you with this quote from Freeman Tilden, who describes my feelings of Big Bend so beautifully and succinctly: “Big Bend Park is the untamed, aloof, but never-ugly desert, with a whimsical river for deckle edge. Some folks say they do not like the desert. I wonder if they remained long enough to know? To me, the hours just before and after sunset, in this desert, in the shadow of the Sierra del Camens, when they redden to a deep crimson, and then fade to violet, with a finality of black velvet—and the moon comes rising behind the Chisos, and cleanliness and vastness enwrap everything—to me this is one of life’s moving experiences. Nobody really knows the desert who has not felt, seen, and surrendered himself to it, at dusk.”  It’s time to head out west.

While we love our in-person Taco Tri’s at the Gear Shop and can’t wait for them to come back, there’s a certain magic that comes with hosting virtual taco tri’s. It’s the knowing that someone halfway across the world may be doing the same exact thing at the same time.  Everyone in the world can participate as long as they can get outside safely and have access to a taco shop or ingredients to make at home. People from California to Pennsylvania participated in the May 2021 event. Some biked long distances, others went on shorter jogs around the neighborhood, but we find this to be the beauty of Taco Tri’s. It’s not about speed or distance but about spending time outside. A few of may’s participants For May we decided it was time to elevate the Taco Tri experience with stickers for each participant. We hope to continue this tradition for every new participant each month. So what do you have to do to get one of these rad stickers on June 3rd?  Participant Sticker   Get a Strava account and join our club here Record a swim, bike or run that day (bonus points for tri’ing all 3) Eat tacos! Sign up through this form so we know where to send your sticker Post pictures using #KammokTacoTri and tag us @Kammok_ATX

Another National Camp at Home Day has come and gone, and we can’t say thanks enough to everyone who participated. You wowed us yet again with your creativity. From indoor campfires and starry skies to an actual outdoor igloo, you guys absolutely crushed it. We geeked out over your clever hammock spots and perfectly roasted mallows, but with over 500 campsites globally, more than anything we were in awe of the sense of community that continues to develop around this event. This year, as we focused more on preparedness, we invited a few of our friends to share a bit about hitting the trail, sustainable camping, adventuring with kids, and a whole lot more. Check out our previous blog posts if you haven’t already, and get ready for the camping season! It’s spring here in Texas, with wild flowers blooming and bright green leaves budding from formerly barren trees, and the Kammok team is ready to hit the trail. We hope you’ll do the same. Take the confidence of having just pitched your tent in your backyard or living room, and go check off a new national or state park! This day started as a way to cope with the quarantine blues, but with your help, we hope to build this into a community event for campers who are always learning and preparing for the next big adventure. If you haven’t already, join the conversation on our National Camp at Home Day Facebook group. We created this space for people to learn and get inspired from one another, and as a way to help each other get ready for whatever campsite is calling you next. Share your favorite gear, camping recipes, parks, or whatever gets you excited to be outside with the people you love.  Until next year, campers! We’ll see you on the trail.

As many as 300,000 Americans contract Lyme disease from infected ticks each year, according to CDC modeling. Much of the Eastern half of the country has a large chunk of these cases.  However, only a small fraction of Lyme cases are reported to federal health authorities. Elsewhere in the United States, people contend with potentially fatal tick-borne illnesses like Rocky Mountain spotted fever. Mosquitoes inhabit every corner of the country, spreading potentially serious pathogens like West Nile and Zika viruses and general bite-induced misery. Meanwhile, fire ants terrorize backyards in the southern United States. And they’re joined by too many other insect pests to name. In this year of social distancing, backyard camping is a great way to spend time with your family and enjoy the outdoors. The good news is that suppressing outdoor pests isn’t as difficult or costly as you might imagine. And there are natural ways to get rid of these annoyances. These natural backyard pest control solutions will increase your enjoyment while keeping your kids and pets safe from harm. 1. Moisture Control and Standing Water Management Mosquitoes love standing water. It’s where adults breed and lay their eggs and where larvae spend their lives before transitioning to adulthood. They don’t need much water, so it’s important to identify and control sources of moisture and standing water, even if they don’t seem troublesome. You can’t do much about standing water beyond your property lines. If you live near a pond or swamp, you’ll need to get used to mosquito activity. But you can follow these tips to make your yard as inhospitable to breeding mosquitoes as possible: Dump and Scrub. The CDC recommends dumping standing water from human-made vessels, such as birdbaths and flower pot saucers, at least once per week and thoroughly scrubbing the empty containers. No soap is required, though nontoxic insecticidal soaps can help. Add Oil. If you don’t want to dump the water, drizzle about one teaspoon of olive or vegetable oil into standing water. The oil kills larvae without harming birds or plants. Add Vinegar. Another solution if you don’t want to get rid of the water is to add vinegar to standing water sources. You want to achieve a ratio of about one part oil to five parts water, so this isn’t practical for larger bodies of water, but it should work fine for your birdbath. Mosquito Dunks. These “bacteria bombs” kill mosquito larvae without harming kids or pets. Add them to standing water and let them work their magic.   2. Brush Management Standing water is to mosquitoes as dense underbrush is to disease-carrying ticks. During the cool season, ticks retreat to leaf litter for warmth and protection. They lurk on grasses and ground-hugging vegetation in warmer months waiting for unsuspecting mammals to brush by. Homeowners keen on making their backyards safe for camping need to reduce or eliminate places for ticks to breed and ultimately to find new victims. Here’s how: Edging. Take a trimmer to high weeds and brush along the perimeter of your yard at regular intervals throughout the growing season. Mowing. Mow your lawn regularly, keeping grass ankle-high or lower. Gravel Borders. Create a gravel barrier at least 3 feet wide between your yard and surrounding wooded areas. If this is impractical, use wood chips instead. Stacking Wood. If you keep firewood or downed wood on your property, stack it neatly to discourage tick-carrying rodents from setting up shop. Raking. Rake your grass and cultivate areas to remove leaf litter, grass clippings, and other tick-friendly habitats. 3. Fire Ant Suppression Years of steady northward expansion have brought invasive fire ants, known as red imported fire ants, into contact with backyard campers across a broad swath of the southern United States, from central Texas to Virginia. According to the World Health Organization, fire ants sting as many as 60% of people living in colonized areas. Backyard campers eager to avoid joining their ranks can try two eco- and people-friendly remedies to suppress their colonies: Hot Water. This remedy is only kid- and pet-friendly when kids and pets aren’t around. For each mound you’d like to treat, you’ll need to heat several gallons of water to a near boil, then pour it slowly onto the mound to drench and hopefully penetrate the soil. This measure will also kill nearby grasses, but that may be a small price to pay. Organic Treatments. Though they’re not as effective as EPA-regulated chemical pesticides, two compounds do work to suppress fire ant colonies: d-limonene (citrus oil extract) and spinosad (a microbial byproduct). Follow package instructions carefully. 4. Encouraging Predation Insect-loving predators are the ultimate backyard pest control solution. Bats are voracious consumers of mosquitoes and other biting flies. They’re polite enough to do their work at night too. To encourage them to frequent your yard, Good Housekeeping recommends doing the following: Plant Night-Blooming Flowers. A night-blooming garden should draw night-feeding insects, which in turn will encourage bats to hang out. Popular options include primrose, honeysuckle, dahlia, and raspberry. Put Up a Bat House. Place a bat house (whether purchased pre- or partially assembled or built from scratch) on a south-facing second-story wall or exposed pole near your yard’s edge. The optimal height is 15 to 20 feet above the ground. Final Thoughts Your backyard is yours to enjoy. You shouldn’t have to live in fear of it. Nor should you feel compelled to invest in drastic pest control solutions that could put your children and pets at risk. Thankfully, these kid-friendly pest mitigation solutions really do work. Get started today, and look forward to making your backyard yours once more. Jeremy Kallen is a freelance writer and outdoor enthusiast who uses a number of strategies to watch out for ticks and pests.